Sometimes infertility makes me feel
like the shortest kid in the class
like the "try me" bottle of lotion at Bath and Body Works
like the first item on the rack
like the heel of the loaf
like the front row at church
like a baby carrot in a bundle of full-growns
and like the late Gary Coleman
just never quite big/tall/good enough. The thing nobody wants, the topic nobody wants to discuss, and the item everybody avoids. Not big enough to play with the older kids. Not smart enough. Not cool enough. Not kind enough. Not patient enough. Not righteous enough.
And just when I start feeling like I want to play with the big kids, and like I wish I were smarter and bigger and better than I am, life throws me a chunk of perspective.
Our little scooter is smaller and less powerful, and it has a really nerdy windshield, but it's just perfect for my sweetheart and me.
And though my infertility makes me feel smaller, less powerful, and sometimes I wish I had a nerdy windshield to cover up my tears, it's just perfect us right now. It's what we need, and it's what we need to learn to deal with.
I'll take a scooter and a few years of infertility over a Harley any day. :)
P.S. We saw the Harley crew leaving the restaurant we were all eating at, and so we followed them out to see if they'd react to us parking our Vespa next to their Hogs. They started CRACKING UP and they all took pictures with it, and were rallying their friends to show them. It was totally fun being the butt of their joke! Or were they the butt of ours? Hmmm. :)